


Crutch

by Jude_littlewanderer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Conspiracy Theories, F/M, Idiots in Love, Imaginary Friends, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Multi, Obsessive Kylo Ren, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-04-14 21:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14144529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jude_littlewanderer/pseuds/Jude_littlewanderer
Summary: At the age of twelve, Rey realizes that most children don't have an imaginary friend quite like Ben. Instead of wings or camouflage scales, he has sarcasm and misanthropic tendencies. Sometimes, he feels so real it's hard to believe that her best friend is a figment of her imagination.Now, when Rey finds herself a scholarship student at Ben's third-rate Hogwarts of a boarding school, she starts to uncover the secrets behind First Order Preparatory School's founding and its true purpose. Can Rey save Ben, or will he fall to the dark side?





	1. Chapter 1

At the age of twelve, Rey realized most people no longer used their imaginary friends as a crutch to carry them through the day. She didn’t happen upon this discovery alone. 

In a tense game of truth and dare, in which Rey and her friend Liz desperately schooled their features into masks of maturity to fit in with the teenagers who collectively half-shrugged when Liz asked if she and Rey could play too, some blur of a boy asked Rey who she talked to at night.  
Rey blinked; Liz scowled. Fiddling with the hole at the knee of her jeans, Rey shrugged and gave the boy what he wanted: the truth. All the teenagers burst out laughing and Liz blushed scarlet. The next day, Liz refused to sit next to Rey on the bus. A week later, Liz promoted another girl to the role of best friend. 

Until that point, Rey assumed everyone shuffled through life with their best friend hovering in the corner of their minds like a minimized computer window. It certainly felt natural to Rey. She couldn’t remember a time in her life before Ben had taken up permanent residence in her periphery vision. He always stood there, as if trying to sneak out of the frame of some embarrassing family photo. 

Rey wished she had a family photo to try duck out of frame for. Instead, she clutched onto the faded postcard with warped palm trees and waves rubbed white from Rey’s constant inspections. The vague promise of returning scrawled on the back in a loopy script became the lullaby of her childhood. This island morphed into the landscape of her dreams.

Sometimes the air warped around her and her surroundings flickered. A humming sound filled the air and lighting crackle tension threatened to spark and burn down Rey’s world. During those times, she turned to face Ben. His black hole eyes absorbed her essence. Ben felt more real than the children rushing down the halls like salmon up a stream. Rey could sketch Ben’s face with her eyes closed. She knew the constellations of his moles. She understood how his nose curved and his ears jutted. Ben stood out starkly against the background. Everyone else just blurred together into splotches of muted color. Their forms shifted and changed like the liquid in Liz’s lava lamp. 

Rey’s social worker and court-appointed psychiatrist didn’t seem to like these sorts of statements. When Rey explained why Liz now sported a broken nose, the two women glanced at each other with black smudges under their eyes. The social worker gave a terse nod. A week later, Rey’s foster-mother passed her a trash bag. Rey folded her belongings, placed them in the bag, and fell asleep clutching onto her postcard in the back of her social worker’s car, which smelled vaguely of cigarettes and something sharp and medicinal.

Rey spent the rest of her pre-teen years passing through a blur of monochrome hallways surrounded by fuzzy faces and nodding along to muffled voices. She latched onto the few things that stood crisp and sharp against the impressionist smudge of regular life: Ben, classes, and tinkering. Every few months or so someone caught Rey slipping out of this unfocused background and into the technicolor world she shared with Ben. A week later, her social worker honked and Rey slouched into the car with her trash bag of possessions in hand. 

Sometimes, her foster parents had soft edges and warm voices. Rey tried to hide Ben from these pillow-parents. She lied and shrugged when asked about topics relating to Ben, and when he asked her about her newest parents, she rambled about kitchens smelling like spice and caring eyes. Other times, her foster parents had hungry smiles and heavy hands. Rey didn’t bother hiding Ben from these knife-like fake parents. She showed him the blooming bruises and let him tear the house apart. 

Of course, everyone assumed she trashed the places herself. When her foster family or social worker asked, Rey just shrugged. What else could she do? Explain that her imaginary friend had a protective streak wider than the Mississippi? No one believed her before. The truth gave Rey a trash bag and a prescription. At twelve, Rey learned how to lie.  
…  
Sighing, Rey locks up her new-to-her bike and slips into the stream of students. Ben grumbles something about her definition of borrowing sounding a lot like his definition of stealing, but she throws him a glance. On her way to her locker, someone elbows her in the stomach. She gasps.

Then, before she can protest, Ben smashes the offender against a row of dove-grey lockers. Ducking about into the crowd of students, Rey hopes that whoever Ben pushed didn’t see her. She just stole that bike two days ago, and she knows Maz won’t let her take the bike with her to the next house. In fact, Maz might force her to write an apology note and give the bike back to its original owner or some such nonsense. Rey rolls her eyes. Ben chuckles. She bites her lip and ignores him. 

“Hey, are you really going to try that again?” Ben pouts.

“I told you, I want to stay here for a while, and somehow people discovering that I talk to a voice in my head seems to get me shoved off to the next set of foster parents faster than it takes you to shower.”

“My showers are not that long. I just properly shampoo and condition. Good haircare is important. Besides, I think we both know that you’re the voice in my head.”

“Ha! Unlikely.”

“Very likely. I have friends. You have a convenient excuse of a backstory that allows me to be lazy and avoid thinking up pesky details for minor characters that I don’t give a damn about, like names or realistic quirks, or some such nonsense.” 

“Then how come my social worker has a name?” She retorts. 

“Simple, she’s the only stable thing in your life. I might be a lazy storyteller, but even I know she deserves a name.” Ben shrugs and his face shifts into a smirk. 

“I hate it when you manage to make sense.”

“I always make sense,” he laughs. 

“Hmm… Guess that’s why I hate you.”

“You don’t.” His face tightens and worry flashes in his eyes. 

“You so sure?” She presses her luck and continues to taunt him. His eyes narrow. 

“Yeah, I’m all you have, really. Besides that wrinkly, alcoholic you call a social worker.”

“Hey, Maz doesn’t drink that much!” She protests. 

“Then why does the back of her car smell like vodka?”

“Disinfectant.”

“What?”

“Maybe she uses a lot of disinfectant.” 

“Bullshit, Rey. Maz likes her liquor.”

“Well, she doesn’t exactly have an easy job. She has to deal with an insane charge who keeps destroying houses,” Rey sighs. 

“Hey, that last guy fucking scarred you. He deserved worse.” Ben’s hands tighten into fists. 

“Ben, the whole house burned down!”

Ben shrugs, “So what’s the name of your new dad?”

“Ugh, stop calling them dad and mom. It feels so awkward and forced.”

“Fine, what’s his name?”

“Unkar Plutt or something? I don’t know. I gave up memorizing names at this point.” She shrugs and fakes interest in inspecting her new  
locker. 

“Like I said, you’re obviously the imaginary one.”

“Because I gave up learning people’s names?”

“Exactly!” Ben crows. 

“Ugh, I’m going to be late for first period because of you.”

“School started an hour ago for me.”

“Wait, so your imaginary school starts at 7:30 AM?”

“Yeah…” He stares at her blankly, then confusion flickers in his eyes. 

“I have a cruel subconscious, huh?”

“If I have to wake up at 6:30 AM almost every day of the week because of you and your imagination, then I’ll be so pissed.”

“It’s about time you had to deal with the repercussions of our friendship. Here I am, having meds shoved down my throat and being  
dragged from house to house and you get off scotch free.” Rey shakes her head. 

“You aren’t actually taking those things, are you?” Ben asks. His charcoal brows furrow and he reaches out to caress her cheek. She ducks away and starts walking towards her classroom. 

“Of course not. You kept showing up either way and they make me feel fuzzy and drowsy,” she sighs. 

Rey pointedly looks away from Ben, trying to forcefully minimize his presence. She glances at her schedule and starts looking at the numbers stamped onto chipped plaques in the center of each peeling door. Eventually, the numbers match and she slips into the room and weaves through the desks, until she finds a desk in the back and next to the window. Glancing at the clock, she sighs and realizes she arrived awkwardly early. At least it got her one of the arguably best desks in the classroom. Ben snorts at the thought. 

“Not all of us are teacher’s pets,” Rey reminds him. 

“Just because I sit in the front to take advantage of my education…” Ben starts his usual rant. 

“Please, we both know it’s your fault I have to sit by the window,” she interrupts. 

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrow and they remind her of two ebony caterpillars. 

“Ben, you never shut up. You’re like a director commentary or something. I’ll be sitting there, trying to watch the film, and you keep making witty remarks and giving insider secrets.”

“Hey, I thought you liked my witty remarks?” His voice oozes with hurt. 

“I do, but it can be hard to focus sometimes. Don’t you have the same problem?”

“I don’t know… I guess, I’m just…” he sighs, “Ok, this will sound embarrassing and if you judge me for it, then I will…” he pauses, his face scrunched. She can practically feel his desperate brainstorming. She stifles a giggle. “Do something awful to you, ok?”

“Wow, what a scary threat. So detailed. So grotesque.”

“Oh shut up!”

“Hmmm… I just might.”

“No! I was teasing, I swear.” He sounds desperate. For the one with a stable family and numerous friends, Ben clutches onto Rey as if loosing grip of her means drowning. 

“I know, you couldn’t last an hour without me,” she teases. 

“I could…”

“Doubtful,”

“Why?”

“Because, Ben. You need people.”

“I don’t need people. I need you,” he corrects. His voice deepens to a velvety baritone. She bites her lip, hoping the pain will distract her. 

“Yeah, because I’m a captive audience. Forced to listen to your droning for hours on end. I swear, you are the reason I have such a messed up sense of humor.”

“I don’t need you because you are there and available, Rey. I need you because you’re you,” Ben explains with heartbreaking sincerity. 

“Ben, you’re saying cheesy stuff again. We agreed that if you got too emotional, I could pinch you. So…” She leans towards him. 

“Why do you always ruin the mood?” Ben sighs with his head in his hands and his shoulders slump with defeat. 

“Because, as you so aptly answered that question yourself, I am an emotionally stunted foster kid who still clutches onto the dream that  
my mysterious parents will come back for me and meanwhile deflects any and all genuine emotion and potential bonding experiences with my deft use of sarcasm and black humor as a survival mechanism to prevent myself from realizing how painstakingly lonely I am. Or something along those lines.”

“Hey, I was frustrated. I didn’t mean it,” he sighs. 

“Yeah, well… It stuck. Ever consider becoming a psychiatrist? You got talent,” she snarls. 

“But I hate people.”

“For someone who hates people, you sure talk a lot.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Ben, not today,” she begs. 

“Rey, I mean it.”

“Ben, we already talked about this. Either I am a figment of your imagination or you are a figment of mine. It’s already pathetic enough that my best friend is imaginary. I’m not…” Rey sighs.

Ben reminds her of the pitbull from three houses ago. Once he sinks his fangs into something, Ben never lets go. Ben has claimed to have a crush on her for three years now, and Rey… Well, her heart may speed up during those times when she can clearly see his face, and, sure, she can’t quite drag her eyes away during those blessed encounters where Ben doesn’t have a shirt on, but Rey knows that dating a figment of her imagination would earn her a spot in the mad house. 

So, she shoves down her feelings, wipes the drool from her mouth, and slaps herself sensible whenever Ben brings up relationships and romantic feelings. During those weakest moments: when his image seems seared to the back of her eyelids, when his lips appear so plush and kissable, when Ben’s charm develops that magnetic pull of his, she reminds herself that she refuses to become a delusional narcissist. Because honestly, isn’t dating your imaginary friend the equivalent of dating yourself? Rey really doesn’t want that sort of inception plot like narcissism. So, when he brings it up, she deflects like a pro. If only her heart would get the memo. 

The bell rings and Rey jolts out of her reflections on the morality of and meaning behind having a crush on your imaginary friend. Just another fact to hide from her psychiatrist…. And Ben. She’s never lied to him before, but if she told him that she reciprocated his feelings, then he’d want to jump into dating and Rey knows she can’t handle that next step. Sure, technically her imagination created Ben, so he shouldn’t be capable of leaving her, but the persistent fear keeps darkening her daydreams with pervading questions. For example, the most dreaded one of all: what if accepting her feelings for him and opening herself up like that causes him to disappear. Everyone Rey ever loved left her. She doesn’t want to risk loosing him too.  
… 

Ben’s childhood consisted of closed doors, hushed arguments, and notes left by the coffee machine. At eight, his father left the first time. Leia cried that night. Ben saw his Amazonian mother defenseless for the first time that night. The morality of his mother struck him in that moment. He fumbled to understand how someone so strong could hunch over herself like that.

Han showed up two months later with a black eye and a broad grin. Leia kissed Han on the mouth. Their arms tangled together like two snakes. For the next two months, Leia danced and Han hummed. Then, sparks of passion heated up and morphed into a fire of fury. Ben grew familiar with the music of angry whispers and slammed doors. He also learned several choice words that earned him detention when he used them in class. Han left three months after the fights started up again.

Han came into and out of their lives like a revolving door. He’d show up with a devilish grin and Ben’s mom would smile wide enough for her eyes to crinkle. Then the tension would build, until eventually the inevitable argument sparked, and Han disappeared into the darkness of the night with Chewie and the Falcon again. The first few times Han showed up on their doorstep, Ben held onto the hope that Han might stick around this time. When Han left for the fifth time, a few months after his eleventh birthday, Ben released his balloon like hopes and let them float away into the endless, cerulean sky. 

At the age of twelve, Ben realized that only his imaginary friend genuinely cared about him. Unlike his parents, Rey listened and smiled. She joked with him and they told each other stories and secrets. She always hovered around him, like a mischievous fairy. Sometimes she shoved him away in order to focus, but she always did it with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes. 

Before the fiasco of his twelfth birthday, he lied to himself and pretended his parents cared. He gave them excuses and nodded along to the ones Rey rattled off for him. However, when he woke up a freshly minted twelve year old only to see another note on the coffee machine written in Leia’s practical script, Ben sighed and made himself breakfast before heading off to school. 

After second period, the principle called him to her office. His heart raced and Rey poked him in the ribs and smiled encouragingly. Ben grabbed his bag and sprinted there. The tall, lean figure of Han Solo leaned against the doorway. Ben blinked and compared the man standing before him to the one in photos on top of the fireplace. This man had the same roguish smirk and knowing eyes, but he looked thinner and tanner. Ben wondered what happened to the ever-present Chewie. 

Han ran his hand through Ben’s hair. Ben held back his growl. He only liked it when Rey touched his hair. Rey elbowed him and reminded him to behave nicely, so Ben forced a grin and trailed behind his father. Han kept looking over his shoulder and staring at the boy. Then the man chuckled about Ben growing up too fast. Ben nearly retorted that not seeing someone for over seven months had that effect. Rey, once again, elbowed him. Han just flinched and rubbed his neck. 

Han opened the chipped door of the Falcon and ushered Ben inside. They spent the first half of the car ride in silence. Han eventually turned on the radio, banged it a few times to make it work, and then fiddled with the settings until he found a classical rock channel. Ben stared out the window. Han asked Ben about cute girls and sports. Ben shrugged. He already knew no girl compared to Rey or the ones in his books, so he didn’t bother looking, and Ben abhorred most sports. Han chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, before lighting up a cigarette and asking about Leia. Ben shrugged. 

Ben barely saw Leia. She may not have abandoned him outright, like Han, but she left for work before he woke up and returned from work after Ben had already fallen asleep. Ben and Leia communicated through hasty post-it notes stuck to the coffee machine. The 2x3 inch square notes barely had enough space for Leia’s bullet note messages, let alone any deep and meaningful conversations. He only sees her once every other month or so for a hasty dinner full of foods that Ben loathes.

Han grunted, then turned up the music. Rey hovered on the edge of Ben’s consciousness, berating him with questions to ask Han. Finally, Ben relented and asked where Han had been for the last seven months. Han blinked, shrugged, and mumbled that he’d been around. Ben nodded. Chewie whined from the back seat. 

They parked in front of a dilapidated building with peeling paint and a rusty sign. Han opened the back door for Chewie and grabbed a worn plastic bag from the trunk. Ben raised an eyebrow and Han shrugged and mentioned work. Han took out some small, clear bags full of white powder and a few full of what looked like loose leaf tea. 

Rey inspected the bags, then whispered to Ben that one of her old foster parents used to bring little bags like that home. She said the pair of parents treated her and the others decently enough. Ben asked what happened. She smiled apologetically at him, and told him that the foster parents were found in possession of drugs and thrown in jail. 

Rey pats him on the shoulder. Instinctually, he turned to hug her, then he noted the weird look Han threw him. Ben coughed and looked at his shoes. Han ushers Ben back into the car when a torn-up pick-up truck parks besides Han’s car. Rey’s words and pitying glance floated around in his head as he crouched in the Falcon’s trunk like Han told him to. Then realization washed over Ben: his runaway father took him to a drug deal at some sketchy bar for his twelfth birthday. 

Rey chatted with him while he crouched in the pitch black trunk. Eventually, Han opened the trunk and offered Ben a hand. Ben ignored it and got out by himself. Han clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder. Ben shrugged it off and trailed after his father and Chewie, the huge, shaggy brown dog that Ben still swears to this day Han loves more than himself and his mother combined. Han strutted into the bar and ordered two beers. He poured half of one into a bowl for Chewie and then offered the bottle to Ben. Ben refused. Han blinked, shrugged, and finished the beer himself. 

That night, Ben fell asleep to the half-forgotten lullaby of Han and his mother arguing. In the chaos of Han’s arrival, Leia forgot his birthday. He awoke the next morning to a packed bag forced into his hand and a glossy brochure pushed under his nose.  
… 

Ben sketches the curve of Rey’s button nose in the margins of his notebook. He closes his eyes and an image of her floats into view. She reminds him of a mermaid in these moments: not quite tangible, flickering and floating as if drifting in the current, with ethereal beauty and that melodic voice of her’s.

Rey sits at her desk, frantically taking notes with that small, focused smile she has that always makes his heart thump. He glances at her notes and recognizes one of the equations. Looks like she’s in Calculus at the moment. He opens his mouth to ask her how she manages to smile during that torture they call a class, when a sharp elbow prods his side. 

Turning, he glares at Hux. Hux just rolls his eyes and passes Ben a note. Grumbling, Ben opens it with a sneer. 

For F***’* sake, can you ever pay attention in class, Solo? Ben smirks and hands Hux a reply. Only that bossy ginger with a stick up his ass would bother to draw perfect little asterisks instead of directly swearing in a note. 

Unlike certain people, I don’t need to. Ben savors the scowl on Hux’s face. 

One of these days that hubris of your’s will bite you in the ass. Hux glares at him, but Ben notes the humor gleaming in his friend’s eyes. 

You’ve been saying that for years, and I’m still at the top of the school rankings. He taunts. 

Don’t rub it in, you cocky bastard. I don’t understand what Snoke sees in you. 

Frankly, neither did Ben. Sure, Ben had ranked first in every class except for Computer Science, Hux’s territory, and Mechanical Engineering, Poe’s baby, since he transferred here in middle school, but he doesn’t have that one particular subject area where he shines. At First Order, everyone in the gifted program has a specialty that they take additional courses for with private tutors. Well, everyone except Ben. He just shows up at Snoke’s office and works through whatever exercises the man gives him. Sometimes Snoke will just have Ben lie down and recite his dreams to him, while Snoke nods and takes notes. When he grumbles about having no particular talent, Hux usually points to the sketches and paintings of Rey that have formed a makeshift wallpaper in their dorm room and mutters something about only putting decent artwork on the wall. 

Jealous, much? He teases. 

Please, like I want to spend more time with Snoke. That man gives me the creeps. 

Ben shudders, but forces a grin and decides to dedicate himself to perfectly replicating Rey’s goddess-like features in order to shove down the memories threatening to bubble up and drown him.  
…  
After class, Hux drags Ben along to meet Phasma in the canteen. Ben rolls his eyes at the sight of Hux’s blush. Hux just shrugs. Ben and Rey have been betting on when Hux and Phasma will start dating for years. Ben keeps hoping that talking about people around them dating might acclimatize Rey to the idea of her and Ben dating, but no such luck. Hux and Phasma haven’t started dating either though, so he might have a chance of beating Hux and winning his own personal bet. God, he wants to date Rey almost as much as he wishes she actually existed. 

Phasma waves regally from a table and points to the two spots she saved. The boy sitting a few places away from her notices and elbows his friend. The two grab their trays and sprint to another table. Ben stifles a laugh. The students nearest to him and Hux hear Ben’s chortle and immediately back away. Chairs clatter as the rest of the students sitting at Phasma’s table rush to other tables. Rey, of course, chooses this exact moment to check up on him and grumbles that he and Hux shouldn’t intimidate the other students like this. Ben sighs. Hux gives him an odd look. 

“What’s your problem, Solo?”

“Rey hates it when we scare the other students.”

“Oh, your pen pal? You don’t have to tell her everything, you know?”

“No, Rey knows everything. If I don’t tell her, she’ll guess soon enough and be furious at me.”

“So? Just don’t text back for a few days and she’ll probably be so grateful that you’re texting her again that she’ll stop being angry.”  
Ben sighs, “You just don’t get it.”

“No, I don’t,” Hux scowls. “You spend every second pining over this girl whom you’ve never even met in person. You could have your pick of girlfriends…” Hux gestures grandiosely towards the canteen, then a thought flickers across Hux’s face and he sighs,“Okay, maybe half the girls here are too scared of you and your little temper tantrums, but you have good grades, rich parents, and Snoke’s favor, so the other half are probably dying for a go. Yet instead of noticing the perfectly good options around you, you just cling desperately to this mysterious Rey. For all we know, this could be some elaborate catfish scheme!”

“Don’t talk to me about pining, you hypocrite.”“Phasma’s different. She’s here. She’s my best friend, no offense. If I ask her and she’s not interested, then I just fucked up our friendship,” Hux rambles. Ben rolls his eyes. He’s listened to Hux debating the pros and cons of asking Phasma out at least once a day for two years now. 

“And you don’t think Rey is the same?”

“No, because you don’t see her everyday!” Hux exclaims. 

“But I do!”

“How?”

“I mean… Um… We talk everyday.”

“Texting is not seeing, Ben.”

“But texting her is more real than seeing anyone else. She’s… She’s just magical, Hux.” 

“You artist types are so fucking annoying.” Hux rolls his eyes and slinks into the spot next to Phasma. Ben hears Rey chuckling in the  
background and smiles. 

“So, how was literature this morning?” Phasma asks.

“The usual: the teacher talked, students pretended to understand, and Ben sketched his dream girl the whole time,” Hux jokes. Phasma grins. 

“One day, we’ll need to meet this girl, Ben,” she laughs. 

“I wish,” Ben sighs.

“How did you two start texting anyway?” asks Hux. 

“We started off as pen pals when I was little. My parents signed me up for this mentorship thing. Then, we just kept it up. Eventually we exchanged numbers, and…” Ben shrugs and repeats the lie with well-timed pauses and practiced emotional swells. He saw what happened to Rey when she told the truth. He’s been lying about having a pen pal ever since.

“Wow, you almost sounded like you were telling the truth that time,” Rey snickers. 

“Practice makes perfect,” Ben smirks. “So, how was your first day at the new school?”

“Oh, the usual so far: exhausted teachers who resemble threadbare dishrags, bored students with dull cow eyes, and the occasional bully searching for a distraction.”

“No one’s picked on you, right?”

“Please, most of them haven’t even noticed my existence.”

“Good. If they do, tell me.”

“Oh, I won’t.”

“Why do you have to be so difficult?”

“Why do you have to be so extreme?”

“It’s not extreme; it’s justified.”

“Yeah, in Sumer. We stopped using the Code of Hammurabi thousands of years ago, Ben. Catch up.”

“I just don’t like people touching you.”

“And that sounds like the shit spewed by the rape-y as hell, over-protective boyfriend in a rom-com turned horror movie.” 

“Wait, so I sounded like a boyfriend?”

“Did you actually hear the rest of that sentence?”

“Yeah, but you compared me to a boyfriend! This is great!”

“God, you are relentless.”

“Progress is progress.”

“Ben, you can’t date a figment of your imagination.”

“Rey, if you were honestly just a figment of my imagination, they we’d have been dating for years now,” Rey goes silent and he sighs. Hux  
quirks a brow. 

Phasma just shrugs, “It’s Ben, Hux. He daydreams.” 

 

…  
Ben slumps onto his bed and twists to inspect Rey’s face. Smiling, he appreciates how the light hitting her eyes makes them resemble light falling through the leaves of a lush forest. Rey looks like light incarnate. She shines. He reaches out to tuck a strand of hazelnut hair behind her ear. She rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. 

“You know, you look remarkably similar to my grandmother,” he mumbles. 

“Wow, I look like a white-haired, wrinkly woman. Thank you so much,” she teases. Her eyes glitter with mirth. His hand itches to paint. He shakes off the sensation and tries to immerse himself in the moment. 

“Hey, my grandmother was simultaneously a famous politician and fashion icon. That was a compliment! Besides, I never met her. I just saw  
some pictures online,” he explains. 

“See, it’s shit like this that is why I know you’re the imaginary one,” Rey laughs and the corner of her eyes crinkle. She holds herself back too often. She should smile like this more. Ben wishes that he could just hold her in his arms and protect her. 

“What are you even talking about?”

“Fancy politician grandmothers with a passion for fashion? Please… That’s too fucking Mary Sue perfect. Plus, likening myself to her is some roundabout way of trying to make myself feel better about being plain.” A fist tightens around Ben’s heart. Why does she insist that she looks average? 

“You are so deluded. It’s obvious I’m the real one. And my grandmother was beautiful. People compared her to Audrey Hepburn!” He forces a grin, trying to appear self-assured. 

“And why do you think that?”

“Think I’m real or that my grandmother is beautiful?” Ben asks. 

“Which do you think, genius?”

“Because…” Ben looks away awkwardly, “Well, I got the family. You’re an orphan with a few generic friends and the sort of backstory you’d read in a Charles Dickens novel.” He shrugs, “It just makes sense.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. Because, you are my fantasy. You have these extraordinary parents with drool-worthy jobs that I would have bragged about every time I had the chance as a kid. You have the family, and that’s what I spent my whole childhood trying to imagine into existence.” 

“Then why is my family so fucked up?” He taunts. 

“Because I don’t know what it feels like to have one.” Ben swears his heart stops beating. It feels like someone dumped a bucket of cold water over him. 

“Rey…”

“No, I don’t need my imaginary friend to comfort me. It’s ok. You’re parents are mine in a way.”

“They’d just disappoint you.”

“At least they’d be there to disappoint me,” she spits. He starts to reach out for her, but she flinches. 

“Rey…”

“I’m calling it a night, bye dream boy.” Her voice sounds steely, instead of the sultry tones she probably aimed for.  
Ben sighs, “Why do you always disappear first?” 

He shuffles in his blankets, punches his pillow, and wills himself to sleep. Of course, he’s berated with a constant flood of Rey’s artificial memories. He sighs to himself. One day, he needs to tell her why he feels certain he made her up: because she’s just too perfect. Sure, she has flaws: Rey can act impulsively; she has a hell of a temper; she holds a grudge; once she makes up her mind, no one can stop her. But… All of those flaws suit the heroine of some sci-fi or fantasy series. Ben devours that shit. 

He grew up fantasizing about Hermonie/Katniss/Clarissa/Annabeth hybrids. Then he woke up and realized his imaginary friend sorta resembles all those girls with a dash of something special. That day, he finally accepted his imagination created Rey, a forgotten, unloveable, nerdy, loner’s dream girl. Now, he measures every girl he meets against Rey. No girl compares. So Ben pines for his imaginary friend. Pathetic isn’t it? Even his own imagination rejects him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick head's up, there is some self-harm in this chapter and hints at abuse. I don't do it to dramatize; frankly, I just interpret the relationship between Ben/Kylo Ren and Snoke as abusive, and Ben is the sort of person who channels his emotions physically- be that destroying his surroundings or himself.

The first week passes in an uneventful blur. Rey soon stops flinching when the bell rings and no longer squints at her creased schedule and mouths the room number of each class before walking inside. None of the students initiate conversation, and Rey smiles when bored eyes glide over her.

When younger, she liked to tell Ben that she could turn herself invisible. Then during an argument Ben pointed out that her ability to become invisible probably made her the imaginary friend. She didn’t talk to him for a week after that. Then she never mentioned becoming invisible again. 

Each class mimics the one just before it: tired students shuffle in and jostle for seats; an exhausted teacher clears his or her throat and begins his or her monotonous soliloquy; Rey takes notes and silently corrects the teachers, while Ben rolls his eyes and tries to talk to her for the entire period.

Then on Friday, the AP Physics teacher reminds everyone about the Science Fair, and Rey raises her hand and asks if she can participate. Students stare at her in shock, and the girl sitting next to her blinks and squints her eyes. The teacher seems surprised as well, and fiddles with the buttons at the cuff of her left sleeve, before eventually nodding her consent. The girl next to Rey passes her a note.

When did you show up? 

The girl sitting next to Rey raises a dark eyebrow and gives her a measuring glance. Rey shrugs and forces an amiable grin. Meanwhile, Ben hovers over her shoulder, glaring at the girl who passed the note. Rey considers elbowing him in the stomach, but knows she’ll look crazy if she does.

I’ve been here all week. She writes back. 

The girl looks at the note, looks at Rey, then looks at the teacher in the front of the room before scribbling another note. 

Really? Damn… This teacher really does put me to sleep. Jajaja. 

The girl grins kindheartedly at Rey and mock rolls her eyes at Ms. White. 

I’m not really noticeable. Rey shrugs and passes her the note. 

The girl reads it and laughs. Then gives Rey another appraising glance and shakes her head. 

Damn, girl. You fine. You claiming you ain’t noticeable and shit? BS. Rey reads the note and blushes. 

Besides Ben, no one else ever called her attractive before. Ben’s glare grows more intense. He scowls and rests a hand on Rey’s shoulder. She wants to shrug him off, but stops herself. The gesture would look weird. 

Thanks. She writes back. 

No prob, girl. More of us need self-confidence. We’re all queens. We slay! The girl winks at Rey. Rey smiles back. She’d forgotten how it felt for someone to notice her. She barely talks with anyone besides Ben. It feels… Nice. Ben’s hand tightens on her shoulder. 

602-642-5591 Text me ;) The girl winks at Rey. 

A wave of shock washes over her. Someone wants to contact her. No one has asked for her number before. Rey typically slouches through the halls unnoticed. Yet this girl sees her. She chokes back the lump can her throat and forces her smile to remain plastered on her face. She hears Ben exhale angrily, but his hold loosens and he rubs small circles on the back of her shoulder. 

I don’t have a phone… She writes back. 

Her heart pounds and heat rises to her face. She tenses her shoulders and prepares for the girl’s scornful laughter. Ben’s thumb stops tracing imaginary circles. 

Damn… What century are you living in? Fine, look me up on Facebook. Esperanza Isabella Mendez Dias. Rey just shrugs her shoulder and dramatically rolling her eyes. 

Esperanza will interpret the gesture so that the narrative mimics her own life. Ben resumes doodling on her shoulder. Rey feels torn between annoyance and enjoyment.

Usually, she appreciates how unguarded Ben behaves when around her. He treats her as an extension of himself, and often she finds herself worrying that she might be exactly that.

Sure, she fakes cocky assurance when she and Ben jokingly debate about which of themselves imagined the other, but cold dread encases Rey’s heart anytime she starts comparing her life story to Ben’s own. He has parents. Shitty ones, yes, but, still, he has them. Rey only has memories so worn out that they’ve lost the heft of fact and are morphing into bedtime stories.

Rey Johnson She writes back. 

I better see a friend request this evening, girl. Jajajaja

You better accept it.

Oh, I will. ;)

“Girls, is there something you’d like to share with the class?” Interrupts Ms.White. 

“Not particularly.” The words slip out of Rey’s mouth before she can stop herself. 

Laughter erupts and everyone turns to look at her. Ben laughs at her in the corner. She wants to smack the smug look off his face. The teacher glares. 

“Well then, read the note in your hand to the class and then report to ISS.” The teacher’s eyes flash with annoyance. Rey shrugs and glances down at the note. 

“You better accept it. There. May I go now?” Rey tosses on her backpack and waits with her teeth clenched. 

“Yes, give Ms.Valquez this note when you arrive at ISS.” The teacher tears off a pink-slip and holds it 

“Thanks,” Rey mutters and rushes out of class and down the abandoned halls. 

“Always so sarcastic,” Ben laughs, “You’re my little rebel.”

“Better that than a teacher’s pet, like someone I know,” Rey retorts. 

“You know it’s not… I mean… I don’t want…” Ben punches a nearby locker.

Rey marvels at the dent and turns to Ben. He’s nursing his right hand and scowling. She reaches out for his hand, running her thumb across the knuckles and feeling the sticky warmth of blood. 

“Oh, Ben. You can’t just do that.”

“Do what? It’s not like it’s real. None of this is real. I’m just some lonely freak conjuring up this perfect girl to make myself feel better.” Ben slouches against the dented locker and sighs. 

The dove-grey paint at the apex of impact chipped. Ben absently starts to scratch at the peeling paint. His jaw tenses and Rey swears she feels his anger pouring off of him like heat waves. 

“If I’m your definition of perfect, then you’re even more fucked up than I realized.” Rey weakly jokes.

She holds onto his bleeding right hand and stares straight into Ben’s coffee eyes. Those annoying butterflies flutter in her chest and her stomach predictably flips. 

“I shouldn’t have brought him up. Ben, I’m sorry.”

Ben nods and then hugs her like she’s the raft that will stop him from drowning. She strokes his hair and enjoys Ben’s embrace, the closest thing she’ll ever get to a home. He stiffens.

“I got to go. It’s tutoring time,” Ben grimaces and evaporates like a mirage.

Rey sighs and walks alone down the hall to ISS, thinking about how Esperanza saw her. Hope flutters in her chest. Maybe Rey isn’t just Ben’s imaginary friend after all?  
… 

Ben sighs when the bell rings and tears himself away from Rey. Hux glances up at him with a quirked brow, but Ben shrugs off the unvoiced question and just shoves his notebook and pen back into his bag. Hux rolls his eyes and whispers something to Phasma, who giggles and elbows the scarecrow thin ginger. Ben scrunches his eyes shut and counts to ten. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Hux taunts.

“Rey’s fine. She got sent to in-school suspension or something, but it’s over something stupid.”

“In-school suspension?” Asks Phasma. She tosses her leather satchel over her shoulder and cracks her neck with a relieved moan. Parchment pale Hue flushes crimson and blinks rapidly. Ben chuckles. His eyes meet Phas’s own. She smirks and shrugs. 

“It’s this thing some schools do when students break a stupid rule,” he grumbles. 

“So, what stupid rule did Rey break?” Phas laughs. 

“She made a friend. They were passing notes in class,” Ben shrugs. He tries to  
sound happy about it, but his smile turns into a grimace. 

“Wow, you let her?” interjects Hux with sarcasm dripping from his voice. 

“Shut-up, ginger,” Ben growls. 

“I’m just saying, when it comes to anything to do with Rey, you’re a spoiled four year old brat clutching onto a favorite toy: you don’t share and you’re possessive as Hell.” 

“I’m not…” he protests. 

“Yes, you are,” Phasma gently corrects. 

“We get it. You’re head over heels for this girl, but your relationship is undefined, and you have abandonment issues that could put orphan Annie to shame. Still, you got to lighten up and let Rey live. If you keep this up, she’ll leave you,”  
explains Hux. 

Ben’s hand tightens into a fist. A twinge of pain makes him look down. He still has bloody knuckles. Odd. 

“I just don’t want her to get hurt,” Ben sighs. The excuse sounds pathetic even to himself. 

“Solo, that’s bullshit. You’re scared that she’ll find someone else better and leave you, which is also stupid,” says Hux. 

“If I wanted a shrink, I’d go to the counselor.” Ben glares at Hux, who just shrugs off the threat.

“Well, you certainly need one,” the ginger retorts. 

“Come on, I need to get to tutoring.”

“Because God-forbid Snoke’s favorite is a minute late,” grumbles Hux. Ben flinches. Phasma elbows Hux sharply. The ginger exhales sharply from pain. 

“He didn’t mean it like that, Ben. We’re just worried about you, and we want you to be happy,” says Phasma. She smiles hopefully at him, and he forces a grin. 

“I know. I just got to get going.” Ben rushes out of the classroom, his mind flashing to the cracking of a black leather whip. He rubs the raised skin criss-crossing along his shoulders and shivers.  
…  
Rey hums absently as she tinkers with some of the scrap metal she found at the junk yard. The blueprint for her latest Science Fair project rests near her knee. Ben shuffles beside her. He gingerly leans against the wall. His face pales, he sucks in a breath and quickly moves away from the wall. Rey gently puts down the metal skeleton she’s working on and crawls towards Ben. He forces a grin, but leans on her almost immediately.

“Again?” She asks. 

“I was late. I deserved it.”

“Ben, you don’t deserve this. No one does,” she states. 

“I do. Rey, I’m this monster, but he sees something in me, and he’s trying to make me better. He’s right. I should be grateful,” Ben sighs and scratches the back of his neck. Angry red marks appear and Rey’s stomach sinks. 

“Ben, you aren’t a monster.” Rey reaches out and stops his hand from scratching the back of his neck. 

“I am!” He yells, his voice thick with tears. “If I weren’t, I wouldn’t hurt everyone around me. I wouldn’t be abandoned and forgotten by my own parents. Rey, they don’t even invite me to come home during vacation. I’ve either taught at my school’s camps or stayed with friends during holidays since mom gave up and shipped me there to have me out of her hair. She’s just left me there. She doesn’t care. My dad… I mean Han doesn’t care.” Ben claws at his left wrist; his parchment pale skin flares up with scarlet trails.

Rey sighs and hugs him. His arms feebly wrap around her, and he rests his chin on the crown of her head. Typically, Rey curses their height difference, but in moments like this, she appreciates how she and Ben fit together like puzzle pieces. Where she lacks, he has excess, and vice versa. 

“Ben, you aren’t a monster. You have me. You have friends. There is good inside of you. Besides, your parents love you. Leia sends you cards and care packages. They…” Rey swallows the lump in her throat and chokes out, “They didn’t abandon you, Ben. They sent you away to give you more opportunities. Shit parents don’t do that.”

“Rey, every family is fucked up. Sometimes its simpler if they just abandon you outright, instead of stringing you along. At least it’s a clean break that way.” 

Anger flares within her and Rey swears the world appears tinged in scarlet. She slaps Ben. He blinks slowly, then leans away from her with one hand clutching his cheek. 

“It’s never a clean-fucking break. Get out!”

“Wait, Rey. I’m sorry. Please.”

“Get the fuck out, Ben.” 

“Rey, I’m sorry. You’re different. I didn’t mean…” Rey closes her eyes and imagines pushing him out of frame. She hears a pop and a muttered swear. When she opens her eyes and sees Ben’s absence. Rey laughs while flicking away her tears.  
…  
“Fuck,” Ben mumbles when he falls back onto his bed. His back aches, so he switches to his side and sighs. He pats the space next to him. The blanket feels cold. His heart sinks. The bed looks so much larger without her. 

He strains his ears, but he can’t hear her laughter or snorting. The room feels so empty. Ben managed to push away the one person he thought could never abandon him. He actually succeeded in convincing his imaginary friend to cut him out of her life. He deserves an award or something. Sighing, he shuts his eyes and wishes for sleep. 

Ben wakes up to a frantic shushing sound and heavy footsteps. Grumbling, he opens his eyes and spots Hux and Phasma mock tip-toeing to Hux’s bed. 

“I’m up,” he sighs.

“You missed dinner,” Hux says. 

“Wasn’t hungry,” he mumbles, then turns on his side to glare at the wall. He still can’t feel Rey. A fist tightens around his heart. 

“Ben, what happened?” asks Phasma.

“Rey and I fought. She hung up. Won’t answer my calls or reply to my texts.” 

“So you decided to embrace your inner Emo and are now pouting in our dorm room?” teases Hux. 

“No… Yes… I don’t know,” he sighs. 

“Ben, Hux and I have talked this over several times, and we both feel that your fixation with this girl is a tad unhealthy. One girl shouldn’t have this much control over you.” 

“You don’t get it, she’s everything.”

“Oh, we get it. That’s what terrifies us,” interrupts Hux. 

“She’s part of my life. She’s part of me,” Ben stumbles over the words. 

He starts scratching his left wrist, wishing he could explain the true nature of his relationship with Rey to Hux and Phas without being sent to a shrink. He might not exist without Rey. Her life has the brutality of reality; his resembles a shitty YA novel complete with a boarding school and generic privileged boy problems. Besides, the world without Rey seems so grey and monotonous. Surely the lack of color stems from this being some abandoned corner of her mind. 

“Enough of this romantic crap. So, did you fight with her because of her new friend?” Asks Hux.

Ben groans against his pillow. He wishes they just fought because of Esperanza. He could fix that. Instead, he let his self-pity speak for him, and he hurt Rey. 

“No, I said something stupid,” he sighs. He finally sits up, twisting to face Hux and Phasma. 

“When don’t you?” Sneers Hux. Ben’s hands twitch. He rolls his eyes. 

“I said that it’s better to be abandoned than have parents who don’t love you. Rey didn’t take it well,” he mumbles. Fuck, it sounds even worse when he says it aloud.

“You said she’s foster, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Ben nods, biting his cheek. 

“You fucked up.” Hux shakes his head in disapproval. Ben grimaces, then bites back the urge to point out Hux’s uselessness and redundancy. 

“I know.”

“Then just be patient. Give her a day or two, then apologize. She’s been your friend this long; she knows you’re an idiot,” instructs Hux. 

Ben starts scratching his wrist again. His nails leave burning trails along his forearm. He sighs in relief. Phasma’s eyes meet his own and she quirks a brow in question. Ben shrugs her off and turns back to Hux.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me for having common sense,” retorts the ginger. 

“Thanks, ginger prick,” Ben teases. 

His lips quirk into a smile and somehow hearing another person say that Rey will forgive him lessens the weight on his shoulders. He flops back onto the bed, winces when his back hits the mattress, and twists to his side again. 

“Anytime, emo wannabe,” laughs Hux.  
…

Ben wakes up to silence. Usually he hears Rey’s soft snoring or her shuffling about. Today, he hears nothing. He groans. He often teases her about her snoring, but in its absence he realizes that actually he quite likes it. Her soft snorts reminds him that he isn’t alone. Without them, the morning feels off, as if he woke up in an alternate reality that doesn’t quite line up with his previous one. He doesn’t feel like Ben.  
Hux’s alarm beeps, and Ben swears. The ginger jumps out of bed, grabs his towel and folded clothes, and then throws a pillow at Ben. Ben grumbles and turns to his other side. A flash of pain turns his vision white. He swallows down his exclamation and schools his features into a mask of indifference. Hux just tuts at him, then heads to the dorm showers. Ben presses a pillow against his face and closes his eyes. 

Picturing Rey, he pushes against the invisible barrier separating them. Grunting, he imagines taking a broadsword and slashing against the barrier. It starts to shake. Ben laughs and brings the broadsword up to hack down on the barrier again. Rey turns over in her sleep and starts to blink groggily. Rubbing her face a few times, she glances up at him. When their eyes meet, she scowls. Ben sighs. He slashes the barrier. It wavers. His heart flips. Then Rey’s face darkens, and with a push, he falls back onto his bed.

Grumbling, Ben goes to his wardrobe and absently grabs a pair of black jeans, boxers, and a plain black v-neck t-shirt. He turns to the sketches of Rey decorating his walls and mumbles an apology, before grabbing his towel and heading to the showers.  
…  
Ben stabs his sausage and tries to nod along at the appropriate times. Hux continues to rant about computer programing. Phas keeps sending him worried glances, but he just doesn’t want to talk about it today. He knows exactly what both of them will say and doesn’t feel up to the lecture. He chews and forces himself to swallow. Sighing, he sips his coffee and starts doodling on a paper napkin. Phasma glances at the lines on his napkin slowly forming into Rey’s face and rolls her eyes. Hux drones on ceaselessly. 

Ultimately, Ben knows that he obsesses over Rey to an unhealthy extent, and that to the outside observer he seems pretty one-dimensional because of it. Instead of hobbies, he has coping methods. If he misses the slope of Rey’s button nose, he sketches. If he wishes he could kiss those rose-petal lips, he paints. He experimented with poetry in eighth grade, but after Hux stole his diary and started quoting Ben’s patchwork sonnets at inopportune times, Ben soon realized he lacked any real talent, so he went back to sketching and painting.

Now, Ben practically paints and sketches Rey exclusively, and he always chooses talking with Rey over chatting with Hux or Phasma. A rational voice in his head keeps reminding him that he shouldn’t dedicate so much time to a girl who probably doesn’t exist outside of his fantasies. But, he struggles to follow through. 

Ben spent his childhood wishing for someone to look at him and see him, instead of just a name and a family tree. People looked at him, measured him against his relatives, and then shook their heads in disappointment. His mother’s friends saw Han’s temper without his charisma and Leia’s intelligence without her direction. 

When Ben looked into the mirror, he saw a shadow of his family’s legacy. Then one night, Rey looked into his eyes, squeezed his hand, and told him that she sees him as he is. That night, Ben realized that he doesn’t care how others see him as long as Rey’s eyes stay fixed on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this! I hope that you enjoyed it, and please consider writing comments or giving kudos. 
> 
> Also, in regards to scratching like Ben does, if you or someone you know does that, then please consider getting help. Scratching is a form of self-harm.


	3. Chapter 3

Grumbling, Rey smashes the buttons on her alarm clock until it finally stops beeping. She hears the harsh snap of a slap and Plutt’s husky yelling. Rey winces and rubs her own cheek. Rolling out of bed, she sniffs at the clothes she wore yesterday. Shrugging, she slips them on and tries to slouch out of the house. 

Tip-toeing down the hall, she notes the empty liquor bottles laying about. She hears Plutt and glances towards the living room. He leans over Hannah with his hand raised and ready. The petite blonde reminds Rey of a quivering mouse, while Plutt’s tensed hand makes her recall a snake preparing to strike. Hannah trembles and her doe-brown eyes fill with unshed tears. Rey clears her throat and Plutt turns towards her. He stumbles forward, nearly tripping over his own feet. As he gets closer, Rey forces herself not to wince from the sharp liquor on his breath and the heady smell of sweat. Hannah’s eyes widen. She looks at Rey, then slinks away. 

The words slut and whore wash over her, and Rey turns to glare at Unkar Plutt. Her anger flares up, and her hands tighten into fists. Plutt moves to strike her, but his hand stops inches from her face. He blinks, looks down at his hand, and back at Rey. He throws a punch, but this time it stops halfway. 

“What the fuck?” Plutt asks, glaring at her with fear flashing in his eyes. 

“Don’t hit me,” Rey replies. 

“I’ll do what I want you whore,” Plutt’s hand forms into a fist and he tries to punch her. This time, he stumbles backwards and falls. His head smashes against the coffee table, and he slumps onto the ground. His sprawled out form remind her of the opening sequence of some crime solving show. Rey swallows. Confusion clouds her thoughts. Plutt had leaned forward to punch her, so how did he fall backwards so forcefully? Ben didn’t push him. She didn’t either. So how? 

Glancing down at Plutt’s pale face, Rey bites her lip. She leans down, sticking two fingers on his neck and trying to feel his pulse over the pounding in her ears. Finally, she feels a faint drumbeat of Plutt’s pulse. Rey runs back to her room and grabs the duffle bag that she stole during gym class three days ago already packed with her measly belongings. When she met Unkarr Plutt, Rey looked him over and pegged him as a one-month man. His greedy, pig eyes and hungry smile warned her that anything longer wouldn’t end well. Apparently she underestimated him. It only took two weeks.

She ducks into Plutt’s room, riffles through his cupboard, and finally finds his stash of cash. She glances down at the money in her hands and swallows. It doesn’t belong to her. She should leave it, but she’ll need cash. Sighing, Rey pockets the cash. Then she rushes out of his house. Unlocking her bike from the chickenwire fence, she looks back at Plutt’s dilapidated house with its peeling white paint and patchy roof. She probably won’t return. Rey smiles. Good-riddance. 

As she bikes to school, plans start to formulate. She’ll leave after school. If she tries to run away now, then some school official or another will call Plutt and Maz asking about her. If she escapes as the last bell rings, then she has the entire night before anyone will notice her absence. She can take a Greyhound somewhere. Once she gets out of Arizona, she’ll get a part-time job somewhere that will agree to pay her under the table. Once she ages out of the system, she’ll take her GRE and try to get a college scholarship or something. At least she’s already taken the SAT. She got a perfect score, so that will help. A mirthless laugh bubbles out of her chest. She feels Ben hovering over her shoulder, and this time she lets him come. 

“I’m so so so sorry about what I said. I’m a selfish asshole. Wait… What happened? You feel… Freaked out. I keep seeing these images flashing in my head. Are you ok?” Asks Ben in a rush. 

“Plutt was drunk. He tried to hit another foster. I distracted him. He tried to hit me, but something pushed him back and he hit his head. I didn’t touch him. I don’t know what happened. I got angry, and… He fell. But who would believe that? I’m just a fucked up foster kid, Ben. So, I grabbed my stuff and took some of his savings. I’m going to run away before they send me away. I can’t keep doing this. I stayed around Jakku, Arizona because I thought my parents might come back, but it’s been eleven years since they left. Ben… I don’t think they’re coming back for me… And I can’t keep doing this.” Her voices breaks and she forces the last sentence out of her throat. 

For years, Rey has shoved down the fear that her parents abandoned her and won’t come back. Instead, she’s clutched onto that postcard so tightly her fingertips turned white. She’s traced the curly loops of one of her parent’s letter until the ink smudged. She’s whispered their promise like a prayer each night. Now, she finally accepts the truth: her parents left her in that convenience store eleven years ago with no intention of coming back. 

“Rey, running away seems a little hasty. We’ve done worse. Remember, when we were fourteen and I burned down your foster parents’ house after he tried to…” 

Ben reaches out for her, grabbing her wrist. She twists back and glares at him. She wants to feel angry. She wants to spark her fury and transform it into a fire. But her shoulders shake, and her throat tightens.   
“Yes, but this time I don’t have enough evidence, Ben. The other times, I had bruises and Maz ready to defend me. But, now I don’t know if she will. Plutt’s slapped me around a bit, but all of it already healed. And he was so still. I thought… I thought I killed him,” she explains.

Images of Plutt lying on the floor beneath her feet flash back. Ben pales. He saw them too then. 

“Rey, that asshole tried to hurt you. Anything you did or didn’t do was in self-defense,” Ben continues obstinately, still clutching her wrist. 

“But Ben… That’s the crazy thing. I wanted to punch him, but I didn’t even touch him. He just… Fell. Could Maz be right? Am I crazy?”

“No! You aren’t. Rey, just… Let me try to fix it, please?”

“This isn’t just about Plutt and what happened back there… I’ve been thinking about it for awhile. I mean, yes I’m running away before I get sent to juvie. But it’s also because I’m just so tired, Ben. I’m tired of tip-toeing around alcoholics or just being seen as an easy way to make money. The decent homes never click. The nice ones look at me, and they see someone too broken to bother with. It feels like every time I finally relax, I’m being shoved into Maz’s dinky Subaru with a garbage bag and another excuse about why it didn’t work out. I’m tired of never being good enough. I just want to be accepted. I just want someone to care… And, staying in the system is like agreeing to that torture you told me about… You know, the one with a thousand little cuts. I’m bleeding out, and I can’t handle the rejection anymore.” 

Tears threaten to spill from Rey’s eyes. A lump forms in her throat and she struggles to breathe. Ben’s grip on her wrist tightens. He reaches for her, but she shoves him away this time. 

“Rey, you aren’t alone,” he murmurs. His eyes look so sincere, so warm, but a choked laugh tears itself through Rey’s throat. 

“Yeah, of course not. Because you’re not real, or I’m not real.”

“Rey…” 

“Ben, either you’re just a figment of my imagination, or I’m a figment of your’s. We are the same person. The only person who doesn’t fucking reject me is myself. It’s just…   
Depressing,” she sighs and kicks a nearby pebble. 

“Then how do you explain it, huh? How do explain that I’m madly in love with you? How do you explain my friends and my parents and our separate memories? It can’t be… I mean… We joke about it. Sometimes I worry about it too… But, Rey… It just doesn’t make sense. I looked up Maz once…She’s alive. She’s real. Does that mean I’m not? Or? Are you?” Ben trails on fueled by desperation. 

Rey turns to him. “I don’t know. But, what else makes sense?” 

Ben blinks, then his shoulders slouch and he slumps onto the sand beside the asphalt road. He grimaces when he notices that he’s sitting in clay orange sand, but then sighs and looks around at the Arizona dessert before them with its vermillion stone arches in the distance and patches of stubborn emerald plants. 

“I don’t know, Rey. But I want to be real,” he gulps. Then his eyes focus on her. “And I want you to be real too. Because… Because living in a world without you is like living without the sun.” 

“You can’t always get what you want,” she says sadly. 

The words fall from her lips with a practiced ease. When she used to complain about leaving her foster families, back when every new house held the dream of a warm family and loving smiles, back when Rey ached for love and approval, Maz would shake her head and repeat that very same idiom.

Rey crouches down to sit next to him and rests her head on his shoulder. He takes her hand. The weight and warmth of it makes her smile. She intertwines their fingers. She doesn’t need a family. She has Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter and part one will be over. Things are heating up! I hope this whole episode doesn't seem to crazy or melodramatic. In my mind, Rey's been trying to bottle up her feelings for a while in order to survive, and after what happened, everything is going crazy. Someone dropped mentos in a shaken coke can.
> 
> Sorry for any grammatical errors. I don't have a beta. 
> 
> Comments are much appreciated! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, if you wish upon a star often enough, dreams do come true. Rey Johnson just found out her imaginary friend is not so imaginary after-all and received a full-ride scholarship to his third-rate Hogwarts of a boarding school all in the same day. 
> 
> "A pipe dream sort of hope makes her heart race: if Ben’s third-rate non-magical Hogwarts exists, perhaps Ben isn’t just a figment of her imagination. Maybe Ben is real. Maybe she is too. Maybe she isn’t caught between either being insane or being the daydream of a lunatic."

When Rey hears her name being called over the PA system during AP World Literature, her heart races. She should have just runaway immediately. Flashbacks to Plutt lying on the floor flicker across her vision. Could he be pressing charges? She didn’t actually push him. She never even touched him.

Still, at this point her permanent record probably resembles the Unabridged Oxford Dictionary, so she won’t get a lot of sympathy in court. Besides, who would believe her? I’m sorry your honor, he tried to punch me and then magically fell backwards and banged his head.

The truth sounds like fiction.

Rey grabs her bag and shuffles out of class. A few kids regard her with curiosity. One looks disgruntled, as if he didn’t even realize she existed previous to that staticky announcement calling out hollowly for her. She ambles through the empty halls, reading each and every poster she passes, no matter how shitty the drawing and how prozac positive the message. Ben chuckles, but shuts up when she rolls her eyes.

Eventually, she arrives at the painted grey, metal door of the principal's office. She knocks and an exhausted tenor voice tells her to come inside. The secretary smiles at her, and she forces herself to return his smile.

“You’re not in trouble,” he reassures her. She quirks a brow and waits.

“It’s actually quite an honor,” the thirty something with already thinning blonde hair and hooded eyes rambles nervously.

“What is?” Relief floods through her veins and her racing heart slows down to a trot.

Theories flash through her mind, but none make sense, so she shrugs them off and waits.

“Didn’t your guardian tell you?” He looks genuinely confused.

Rey rolls her eyes. “Let’s just assume he didn’t,” she mumbles, schooling her features into a mask of indifference.

“Oh, um… Well, I’m really not the one to tell you,” the man mutters and looks away nervously.

Rey stares at him and waits. The blonde gulps, then looks down at Rey’s feet.

“You’ve been invited to transfer to First Order Preparatory School. Apparently you had good PSAT scores and won some competition a while back? Look, when the principle tells you the news just pretend your guardian told you or act surprised.” The man  loosens his wrinkled emerald tie.

“Wait, First Order is real? And it’s actually a school?” Rey feels pinned in place while the world dips and twirls like a carnival ride.

“Yes, of course.”The blonde laughs.

Rey blinks. She can’t tell if the news that Ben’s school actually exists just shattered her world or made everything click into place.

A pipe dream sort of hope makes her heart race: if Ben’s third-rate non-magical Hogwarts exists, perhaps Ben isn’t just a figment of her imagination. Maybe Ben is real. Maybe she is too. Maybe she isn’t caught between either being insane or being the daydream of a lunatic.

Smiling, Rey nods at the secretary and strides into the principal's office. A brunette woman smiles benevolently at Rey and gestures for the girl to take a seat besides Maz, who grins at her weakly.

With her nut brown skin, wrinkles, and well-lined face, her social worker looks more like a wooden figurine depicting some ancient goddess than a modern woman. Today, Maz’s mouth twists into a scowl, as if she bit into a lemon. Rey quirks an eyebrow. But Man just shakes her head and refuses to meet Rey’s stare.

Ben watches with interest. Rey can feel his excitement emanating off of him in waves. He’s practically bouncing in place, like some little kid waiting in line for a particularly enticing treat.

A twitchy Asian man stands by the window with his hands clasped behind his back. He glances at her and blinks. Recognition flickers across his features. Then he shakes his head and forces a nervous grin.

“It is my honor to extend a formal invitation to you, Rey Johnson, to attend First Order Preparatory School. We are offering you an unconditional full-ride scholarship until you graduate,” the man rattles off with polished ease and perfect indifference.

His left eye twitches. His right hand fiddles with his shirt cuffs. Rey forces herself not to look at Ben.

“Why?” She asks.

“E..Excuse me?”

He blinks and looks at her in bewilderment.

“Why me?”

As the man struggles to think of an answer, she decides that whoever chose to offer her this scholarship had ulterior motives. If they really wanted her because of some display of ingenuity or talent, then this man would have had a response on the tip of his tongue.

“Oh, well you show a strong academic history. Umm… When you received perfect marks on the PSATs and later your SATs it got our attention. I’ve also been alerted to the fact that you’ve won first place in several Sciences Fairs and that you’ve had several pieces published of fiction and creative nonfiction in various literary magazines. You even won an award, if I’m correct?”

He rattles off her accomplishments like someone might read a grocery list aloud. Although his voice does shake and his left eye keeps twitching.

“I published under a pseudonym,” she replies.

Maz twists towards her with raised eyebrows.

Rey shrugs. Her psychiatrist once told her to write a diary; Rey choose to publish bits and pieces of it. She needed the money.

“We do our research,” he replies with a smile.

It sends a shiver down her spine.

“Plenty of people have good SAT scores,” Rey interjects.

“Yes, but you took it a year early,” he counters.

“Yeah, so?”

She leans back in her chair and taps her foot on the linoleum floor.

“It impressed Dr. Snoke,” the man explains with sudden steel in his voice.

Sounds like this Dr. Snoke had a hand in her scholarship offer.

“And that’s it?” She asks.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand…”

“This isn’t because of Ben Solo?” Rey schools her features into playful indifference.

Internally she’s rocking back and forth on her toes and begging the man to recognize Ben’s full name.

“Oh, you know Mr. Solo?” He seems pleased.

He bats at the perspiration forming at his brow with a monogrammed handkerchief and allows himself a weak smile.

Of course, a teacher smiles when he says Ben’s name. He's the definition of a teacher's pet.

“Yes,” Rey says.

“He really is a talented artist,” the man mutters to himself.

Rey’s eyebrows furrow and she risks a glance towards Ben. His face resembles a tomato and his ears darken to crimson. Hope shines in his eyes though. He frantically nods towards her, mouthing the message “Say yes” on repeat.

She looks back at the nervous messenger.

“What do you mean?” She asks.

“Oh, it’s nothing important… Just, you looked familiar. I thought it was… A coincidence… But you’re the girl, aren’t you?” He seems excited and confident when he asks.

“Excuse me?”

“The girl from Mr. Solo’s paintings.”

“I don’t…”

“Surely, he must have shown you.”

The poor man looks so confused, yet his face shines with pride when talking about Ben. Rey glances towards Ben, who conveniently avoids meeting her gaze. She glances at Maz, who meets her gaze with a thoughtful look.

“He hasn’t shown them to me.” She nearly chokes on the words. Confusion clouds Rey’s thoughts and she turns to Ben. He glances at her sheepishly.

“Odd. They are lovely! Looking at you… It’s amazing. I knew he had talent, but it’s like he took a photo of you,” the man’s eyes narrow as he inspects Rey thoughtfully.

Gulping, Rey starts to consider her options: waiting around until Plutt calls the police and she gets sent to juvie, running away and scavenging a life for herself in some major city with people too tired to care about another runaway, or going to Ben’s creepy boarding school. It will bring her closer to Ben. Besides, she wants to learn more about the mysterious Dr. Snoke.

“Thank you for the honor. When do I start?”

“So, you’re accepting the scholarship?”

“Yes.”

“Umm… Then your social worker and I will escort you home. Once you’ve packed your belongings, we’ll head to your new school.”

“No need.”

Rey had stuffed her stolen duffle bag of belongings into her locker before first period.

“We have time. The flight isn’t until tonight. There’s no need to rush.”

“I always carry my belongings with me,” she lies.

“Rey, congratulations. It is an honor for our school to have a student who not only earned an invitation to First Order Preparatory School, but a full-ride scholarship as well. I hope you won’t forget us while you go on to achieve great things,” the middle aged principle says with perfectly polished tones.

Rey shrugs.

Truthfully, she stopped bothering to memorize school names years ago.

* * *

 

They shuffle out of the office. Maz sends a frighteningly bright, full-toothed grin Mitaka’s way and the man’s left eye twitches. Maz protectively places a hand on Rey’s shoulder. 

“We’ll see you at the airport,” Maz states.

“Oh… O-okay”  Mitaka nods and rushes out of the room.

Rey raises an eyebrow, but remains silent. Maz squeezes her shoulder affectionately and half pushes her down the hallways. After grabbing her bag and hopping into the passenger seat, Rey turns to face Maz.

“What’s wrong?” 

The social worker hums, turns on the car, and blasts the AC, then she meets Rey’s gaze.

“Not all is as it seems, child. Be careful.”

Ice water flows through Rey’s veins. She looks around the parking lot before meeting Maz’s unflinching gaze.

“I don’t understand.” 

“Don’t trust Snoke and the First Order, child.”

“If it’s so dangerous, then why are you letting me go?” Rey snarls.

Maz pats her hand and stares into Rey’s eyes. She feels as if Maz peeled off her scalp and is directly staring at her brain. Reaching into the pocket of her jeans, Rey pulls out the worn-to-white postcard promise. Maz glances at it and sighs. 

“The belonging you seek is not behind you it is ahead.”

Maz slowly pries the postcard from Rey’s hand and inspects it carefully with her lips pursed.

“So?”

“So you must go. You have a destiny.” 

“Maz, this makes no sense.”

“Life doesn’t make sense. Life is.”

“Yeah, but why didn’t you say anything earlier? Why now? If you knew about the First Order, then you knew Ben was real? Why did you hide that from me? I thought…” Rey chokes on her fears and insecurities, but her anger and frustration burn through them and acid words stream from her mouth. 

“I thought I was insane! I thought I was just some figment of another person’s imagination! Maz, I grew up wondering if I was even real. How could you?! If you knew.. How could you just…” 

Her hands form fists in her lap and her lungs bellow for air.   

“Because it wasn’t the time for you to know.” 

Silence simmers between them. 

* * *

 

 Rey can’t hold back her smile as the plane takes off and for a few moments she feels weightless. Images of Plutt, lying in the kitchen flash across the backs of her eyelids, but she no longer needs to worry about his heavy hands and drunken slurs.

Ben hovers in the periphery of her vision with a cheshire-grin smile. He seems uncharacteristically happy, but, then again, confirmation that your imaginary best friend is an actual person can do that to an Emo.

I’m not insane. Ben exists. I exist. Even his odd, fake-as-can-be boarding school exists. Rey shakes her head, hoping that something about the movement will help the news sink in, like shifting a pan back and forth when sifting for treasure in the sand-box.

Mitaka keeps nervously glancing over at her, opening his mouth, then snapping it shut and shaking his head. When he glances at her, it looks as if he’s staring at a ghost. Her stomach churns.

Rey watches the vast vermillion dessert shift into stunning miniature arches and plateaus from the window. She pinches herself, and Ben rolls his eyes. Apparently, he’s back in character. She bites back a retort.

“So, you’re real?” He murmurs for the umpteenth time.

“Please, we both knew I was real. You’re the one attending non-magical Hogwarts.”

She rolls her eyes and blows away an irksome strand of hair. Ben’s hand reaches towards her, but he stops himself and smirks instead.

“Yeah, and you’re the plucky orphan who finds success based off of her own merit. I’m just the spoiled, emo rich boy. Which of us is the bigger cliche, Annie?” Wagging his eyebrows for emphasis, he elbows her.

“Oh stuff it,” she grumbles. She’s lectured him enough times on that nickname. She’s not getting into it today. Not when she’s practically bouncing out of her seat, both of her knees nearly bumping into the plastic tray each time the thrill of realizing she isn’t crazy flashes through her mind like a lightning bolt.

“So, should we start making plans? I mean, I’ll have to introduce you to Phasma. She’s tolerable. Hux is… Well, he’s Hux. You’ll either get used to him or beat the shit out of him. Frankly, I wouldn’t mind watching you beat him up.

“Wow, what a great way to introduce your friends. What do you say about me behind my back?” She smirks, and his own smirk softens into a smile.

A hand tightens around her heart, but then Ben’s face flickers and his smile hardens.

“Considering the fact that you’re always there, it’s hard to do that.” “Hmm… Doubtful. What was that about what Mitaka said earlier?” She inquires with false innocence.

Ben’s ears turn tomato red. He sputters, glancing around the airplane cabin.

“Nothing. I… Well, they say write what you know, so draw what you know works too, right? And I know you. So, I might have drawn a few sketches. It’s nothing major,” he rambles.

“You know, you were a much better flirt when you thought I was a figment of your imagination,” she taunts.

Her stomach tightens.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t have any consequences then,” he mutters, his nostrils flaring.

Rey reaches out, stroking his cheek. Sometimes, touching Ben feels so natural that it reminds her of touching herself. She and Ben are fused. What he feels, she feels.

They are an interwoven strand: stronger together and impossible to unravel.

Previously she assumed this bond was due to their being the same person, but now she wonders at the surreal nature of their connection. They are separate, yet the same.

Other times, touching Ben sends electric sparks racing through her lightening-rod heart, sending it sputtering and sprinting.

He closes his eyes, reminding her of a cat. She opens her mouth, but shuts it quickly, deciding to relish this magically mundane moment. Then Mitaka snores besides her.

Rey jumps while Ben rolls his eyes.

“Typical Mitaka,” he mutters.

“You certainly don’t hold him in high respect,” she snorts.

“Why should I? The guy would make a caffeinated squirrel seem calm.”

Rey laughs, biting her lip and considering Mitaka. His left eye twitches in his sleep and he flinches and whimpers. Rey swallows down her guilt and wonders what causes this grown man to look so fearful.

The perfect for radio voice of one of the flight attendants informs the cabin to prepare for descent and buckle their seat belts, so Rey shushes Ben and elbows Mitaka. He jumps out of his seat and hits his head. Mitaka’s head whips around, turning left and right at a whiplash inducing pace.

“You alright?” Rey asks.

He blinks and his eyes narrow, then he slowly nods and begins to prattle on about First Order Preparatory school. Rey wants to roll her eyes at the mouthful of a name. It sounds pompous. He spouts off about various notable alumni and a prestigious legacy. T

he words fall from his lips with a mechanical professionalism and lack of intonation. Meanwhile, Rey wonders if Mitaka memorized a pamphlet.

Hell, maybe Mitaka is a glitchy android? She watches him try to subtly wipe off drool from earlier. Maybe not.

As the airplane hits the ground, Rey’s hands tighten around the edge of her seat. Her knuckles turn bone-white and she tries to slow her breathing and count each inhale and exhale. Mitaka scrambles up and rushes to grab their carry-ons from the overhead compartment. Rey just rolls her eyes as she watches the ever-growing line of airline passengers clogging the aisle. She resolutely stays in her seat, determined to wait until the crowd actually starts moving. Mitaka’s brows furrow, but he snaps his mouth shut.

As the line dissipates, Rey pulls herself up and shoulders her bag. Mitaka hurries ahead, but she focuses on forcing each cement encased foot forward.

With each second the bravado evaporates. She wrapped herself up in sarcasm and cynicism, but now someone’s stolen it all away and she can’t stop her hands from shaking and her knees from quaking.

_She’s going to meet Ben. She’s going to meet Ben. She’s going to meet Ben._

The chant builds to a crescendo. She barely notices her surroundings, too caught up in the realization that sometimes dreams do come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! It's been awhile. Thank you for reading. This chapter is short, but I hope to publish another soon. Unfortunately, I can't promise that I'll update regularly. I'm a grad student who's interning full-time. However, I didn't abandon this fic. Thank you again for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for reading! I hope that you enjoyed this. Please leave a comment! Frankly, I'm always full of a ton of self-doubt right after I publish a story, so hearing positive feedback or constructive criticism gives me the confidence boost I need to keep writing. I've completed phase one for this, so the chapters ought to be posted relatively quickly at first. I don't have a beta reader, so hopefully my grammar/writing is not too awful. :) 
> 
> For those of you who have read Snapshots, I haven't stopped writing it. I just needed to take a short hiatus because of how emotionally draining Snapshots can be sometimes. (Plus, there's been a lot going on in my life these past few weeks- nothing negative, it was just a tad hectic.) While stuff was crazy, the idea for a sort of Gakuen Alice like Reylo story smacked me in the face and I decided to start writing in order to have something a smidge less dramatic to counterbalance Snapshots. Of course... being the person I am, Crutch also has its angst and dark points. Anyway, I plan to work on Snapshots over the weekend and will hopefully have the next chapter up by Sunday or Monday. (It'll be a long one.) 
> 
> Lastly, here's my Tumblr if anyone wants to ask questions/talk/follow me/etc. https://www.tumblr.com/blog/judelittlewanderer


End file.
